<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>June Showers Stir Bread Flours by yozra</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24937924">June Showers Stir Bread Flours</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yozra/pseuds/yozra'>yozra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, EnnoAka Weekend, EnnoAka Weekend Day 2, Fluff, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:28:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,829</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24937924</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yozra/pseuds/yozra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ennoshita has grown fond of his 6:30 a.m. regular, and uses bread to close the distance.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Ennoshita Chikara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>June Showers Stir Bread Flours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><strike>Photographer</strike>/Coffee Shop/<strike>Engagement</strike></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The café where Ennoshita worked at was a single room crammed with one counter manned only by him and another counter along the side window that just barely squeezed in four stools without customers knocking elbows or invading each other’s privacy. Up until six months ago, he’d been working at his family bakery-café, and while it was popular with the locals, he knew their business could do better – deserved to do better; after lengthy family discussions he left to branch out, to this spot ten minutes from a busy station, along the back streets, in front of a train track. The location was better than it sounded – a decent stream of customers flowed in during the morning rush to work, slowing to a steady trickle until lunchtime when there would be another fast current as people ordered food and drink to sustain them through their sleepy afternoons.<br/>
<br/>
The drinks menu was simple, with a couple of easy-to-make seasonal twists to keep things interesting. The food menu was also a simple range of sweet and savoury, which he baked and prepared himself at his family café in the early hours of the morning, loading them into his van to bring here, setting them ready before opening at six. There wasn’t a strict closing time, and usually he’d push through past lunch until the food had sold out before closing for the day, afterwards heading back to the bakery-café for lunch, or stopping by his apartment for a quick nap.<br/>
<br/>
He’d already accumulated regulars, who came in at various points of the day or week to work, or enjoy some quiet time before moving on to their next location.<br/>
<br/>
Among them was one who really made the early mornings worth it.<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita didn’t know his name… yet. The young man who came in on Tuesdays and Fridays at 6:30 a.m. sharp, who ordered a dark roast to be poured into his tumbler, which he added milk to before leaving. Ennoshita had seen many a tall, dark-haired, quietly spoken stranger come into the café, or walk the streets, or sit on trains, and he didn’t know what made this one any different, except his gut told him that he should talk to him, and get to know him, to really understand <em>why</em> he was different.<br/>
<br/>
He glanced at the clock – he did it automatically now, at around the same time many mornings – and when he looked at the open door again, he found his regular standing outside, placing his neatly closed umbrella into the stand. It was one of those rare mornings during the rainy season where the sun was out in full and the ground was dry, but everyone was carrying their umbrellas having been warned by the news that heavy rain was predicted for later in the day.<br/>
<br/>
“Morning,” Ennoshita said when the man approached. “Feel like changing things up today?”<br/>
<br/>
The man smiled, and Ennoshita might have been right in thinking he was a little amused. “The usual please,” he replied, and placed his tumbler – black with yellow stripes – on the counter.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you? Secretly you’re wanting to try something fun like hot chocolate, but your pride won’t let you.”<br/>
<br/>
“As ‘fun’ as that may sound, I’d like to wake up, not fall asleep.”<br/>
<br/>
While Ennoshita prepared his coffee, he thought about taking the plunge and prodding the man for personal details. His customer seemed like a private person, and since coming in for the first time two months ago, it had only been in the last three weeks that he cracked a smile, pushing their conversation beyond formalities to gentle banter.<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita poured the drink and placed it on the counter, and as the man took the steaming container, Ennoshita reasoned (not talked himself out of because he’d chickened out) that it was still too soon; he didn’t want to drive him away.<br/>
<br/>
Before the man moved over to the corner to pour his milk, Ennoshita rushed to grab the brown paper bag he’d placed aside and put it on the countertop.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s a small egg sandwich roll today.”<br/>
<br/>
This was the second week he offered a sandwich roll, after the ham and lettuce, and red bean and butter of last week. He’d explained that he wanted to add a couple of sandwich options to the menu and was asking his customers for their opinions on fillings.<br/>
<br/>
(Adding sandwiches to the menu wasn’t a complete lie, he’d been thinking about it for a while, but there was only one customer’s opinion he cared about.)<br/>
<br/>
“On the house as usual, they’re just tasters” he blurted as soon as he saw the man open his mouth, knowing he would say something about paying. “I’ve still got a few more flavours to run through, and after that I’ll make a survey.”<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita thought if he could just ask the man for his name and number half as easily as he could make up elaborately detailed lies to woo him with sandwiches, he’d already be on a date with him by now.<br/>
<br/>
There was a pause where the man seemed to struggle with himself about accepting the food for free, then reaching for the bag he said, “Thank you. I’ve been taking notes, so I’ll be sure to add them when the survey is ready.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s great! Okay. Well then… you have a wonderful day!”<br/>
<br/>
The man bowed his head. “And you as well.”<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita kept glancing to and fro from the man, and when he went to pick up his umbrella from the stand, he paused to give another smile and bow of the head, then headed left and out of sight.<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita sighed, a sound that grew longer and louder with each visit, and began contemplating on the next filling he should choose.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p>*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *<br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p>On Friday, Ennoshita looked aside at the row of empty seats, and refocused beyond the raindrops running down the glass to the greyed building next door streaked in white lines, the sound of static punctuated by splashing steps soaking up the background bossa nova.<br/>
<br/>
He glanced up at the clock above the window to find it pointed a few minutes from seven.<br/>
<br/>
There were a million rational reasons as to why his regular wasn’t in today, and his mind could only stop on the one that said his customer had figured out his ruse and no longer wanted to visit.<br/>
<br/>
With a heavy sigh he leaned his arms on the counter and looked ahead, to view the apartment buildings on the other side of the train tracks that looked just as drab.<br/>
<br/>
Hurried splashes neared, to be accompanied by a tall person running into the café wearing a bright yellow raincoat; Ennoshita pushed himself off the counter, pulling up his posture, ready.<br/>
<br/>
“The weather forecast lied!” a man loudly claimed and he pushed the hood down to reveal hair streaked in black, white and grey, a perfect match to the rainy scene. “They said it wouldn’t rain until nine – at the earliest!”<br/>
<br/>
“They’re never reliable, especially during this season,” Ennoshita agreed as the dripping man walked up, the wooden floorboards turning polka dot where he stepped. “What can I get you?”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll have the…” The man frowned as he scanned the menu – and suddenly lit up. “The frozen mint hot chocolate sounds great!”<br/>
<br/>
The enthusiasm radiating from the man lifted Ennoshita’s mood a little. “For here or to take away?”<br/>
<br/>
“Take away – I’m just making a quick stop from my deliveries.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh? What are you delivering?”<br/>
<br/>
“Onigiri mainly, though we do small bentos, too – you should try them out! Hey, do you have those little sandwich roll samples? The bread’s so buttery and I love that they’ve got loads of filling!”<br/>
<br/>
“Sandwich rolls?” Ennoshita echoed. “We don’t sell sandwich rolls.”<br/>
<br/>
“Really? Am I at the wrong place…?”<br/>
<br/>
The man fumbled through his coat and pulled out his phone.<br/>
<br/>
“…This is Karasu no Su Café right?”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s right.”<br/>
<br/>
“Then this <em>is</em> the place! Akaashi’s been giving us bites of your free samples and asking our opinions because he said you were trying to decide what fillings to sell!”<br/>
<br/>
The words clicked.<br/>
<br/>
Akaashi. That was the mystery regular’s name.<br/>
<br/>
Akaashi who’d apparently been taking his free sample lie so seriously he’d been sharing them out to his co-workers.<br/>
<br/>
“He said they were all handmade – but this place is tiny, how do you make them?! They taste amazing though, I can’t wait till you start selling the actual sandwiches!”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh... uh… thanks.” Ennoshita flicked a glance at the brown paper bag sitting underneath. He hesitated, then reached for it; if his regular, Akaashi, did end up coming in, at least Ennoshita wouldn’t have to pretend about his free samples. “It’s the last one,” he said, dropping it onto the counter.<br/>
<br/>
The man beamed, a smile that could probably break and dissipate the clouds. “Great! And I’ll take that scone, too, I didn’t think this shift would make me so hungry so fast—”<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita ran the till and began making the order. Thankfully the man stopped talking at him and started muttering at his phone instead about the address of his next destination, leaving him to organise his thoughts.<br/>
<br/>
The regular – Akaashi – liked this place enough to recommend to his co-workers. He was thoughtful and earnest, taking his job as taster seriously, sharing the food with others so Ennoshita could get a wider sample. It wasn’t anything personal, Ennoshita told himself, he was simply sharing information on his favourite morning pit stop with others, helping his business by spreading the word. But it didn’t stop him from hoping that maybe, <em>maybe</em>...<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita poured the drink into the paper cup, closed the lid and placed it in front of the man, then taking the tongs, picked up a scone (the one that looked largest) and pushed it into a paper bag.<br/>
<br/>
“Do you… know what’s happened to him today?” Ennoshita tried to ask as casually as he could as he folded the opening closed.<br/>
<br/>
“He’s started training to make the bentos instead!” The man leaned forward – Ennoshita leaned forward, too – and said in a hushed voice, “I think he secretly wants to snack on the onigiri while he’s on the job, he <em>really</em> loves the stuff.”<br/>
<br/>
Something fell into the pit of Ennoshita’s stomach. “He… does?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, you should see how many he eats if there’s any left over at the end of the day!” The man pulled his hood up over his head and grabbed the food from Ennoshita’s limp grip. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get going. Thanks for the energy boost, I’ll drop in again!”<br/>
<br/>
The man left, taking his sunshine mood with him, and Ennoshita was once again left to soak in the sound and sight of rain.</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p>*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p>Two weeks passed and there was no sign of Akaashi.<br/>
<br/>
The new regular – Bokuto, Ennoshita had been told at their next meeting – started dropping in on Tuesdays and Fridays. Ennoshita couldn’t deny that Bokuto made the exchanges livelier, though as soon as he left, Ennoshita’s mood would sink further than the level it had been at before he’d arrived.<br/>
<br/>
He continued making the sandwich samples because he needed to maintain his cover, and it comforted him that at least Bokuto would take the samples back and remind Akaashi about the café, and maybe, if he was reminded enough, he would return.<br/>
<br/>
It was a lightly sprinkling Tuesday morning when Ennoshita stood at his post, two brown paper bags prepared under the counter; one was Bokuto’s sample (scrambled egg, cheese and ham), the other was an idea that had struck him over the weekend which he’d prepared for Bokuto to take to Akaashi.<br/>
<br/>
Once more, the rain drove off many of his morning customers, and he glanced at the clock – a habit he still couldn’t shake off – finding the hands pointing at 6:30. Bokuto wasn’t as timely with his appearances, though he always came in before 7:00.<br/>
<br/>
At the sound of footsteps, Ennoshita turned—<br/>
<br/>
“—Akaashi.”<br/>
<br/>
Akaashi paused in his tracks.<br/>
<br/>
“Akaashi-<em>san</em>,” Ennoshita quickly amended. “Sorry, Bokuto – Bokuto-<em>san</em> – talks about you and your onigiri bento shop, and he told me about you.”<br/>
<br/>
“I assumed he would.” Akaashi picked up his feet, continuing on until he stood in front of him. “Bokuto-san’s been talking a lot about you as well – Ennoshita-san.”<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita’s pulse skipped. “Just Ennoshita’s fine,” he said with a shaky laugh.<br/>
<br/>
“Then just Akaashi’s fine.”<br/>
<br/>
“So… the usual?” Ennoshita started reaching for the coffee jar—<br/>
<br/>
“Actually, Bokuto-san has been insisting I try the frozen mint hot chocolate.”<br/>
<br/>
The grin came easier to Ennoshita’s face. “I promise the ice and mint will keep you awake.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s not necessary for me to be alert today, but I do want to return to drinking your coffee without having Bokuto-san constantly asking if I’ve tried your seasonal specials.”<br/>
<br/>
Akaashi ended that sentence with his quietly amused smile, and while it may not have been as big or bright as Bokuto’s, it warmed Ennoshita to the bone and he knew the feeling would last the rest of the day.<br/>
<br/>
“Do you have your tumbler?” Ennoshita asked as he started getting out the ingredients.<br/>
<br/>
“I was thinking of drinking in today.”<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita almost glanced up, and just managed to keep his eyes on his hands. He didn’t know what he expected to see and didn’t trust himself to react without doing something stupid – like creating another elaborate lie.<br/>
<br/>
“Why—”<br/>
<br/>
“I actually wanted to apologise.”<br/>
<br/>
“Apologise?”<br/>
<br/>
“I didn’t inform you I’d no longer be coming in at this time.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh – that?” Ennoshita added a laugh that sounded fake to his ears; he hoped Akaashi couldn’t tell. “Why would you? And Bokuto told me how you have to go into work really early. And… you’re here now.” Ennoshita put the lid on the blender and paused – to finally look up at Akaashi. “Why <em>are</em> you here now? Shouldn’t you be working?”<br/>
<br/>
“I changed my shift to Sunday instead, which leaves me with Fridays off. I tried coming here after I finished work, but by then you’d already closed.”<br/>
<br/>
“I generally close after the food’s sold out.”<br/>
<br/>
“I gathered the reason might be something along those lines.”<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita started up the blender, the noise grinding any awkwardness with the ice to let it melt into the sweet chocolate; he poured the smooth drink into the glass. It was strange to imagine Akaashi sitting in the café to drink.<br/>
<br/>
As he was setting the glass down, he quickly reached underneath to pull out the brown paper bag. “I was… going to give this to Bokuto to give to you… but I guess I don’t need to now that you’re here.”<br/>
<br/>
Akaashi blinked in surprise and took the gift. “Thank you. What’s the filling today?”<br/>
<br/>
“Take a look.”<br/>
<br/>
Akaashi shot him a quizzical look and peered inside.<br/>
<br/>
“…Onigiri?”<br/>
<br/>
“One’s savoury with seaweed and a burdock-and-carrot filling, the other’s sweet with chocolate ‘seaweed’ and a chocolate filling. They’re both made of rice flour so they’re… kind of onigiri?”<br/>
<br/>
No splashing rain, no clattering train, only silence as Akaashi stared into the bag, motionless except for his blinking.<br/>
<br/>
“Ennoshita-san—”<br/>
<br/>
“Just Ennoshita—”<br/>
<br/>
“Ennoshita. Would it be a nuisance if I waited here until the shops start opening?”<br/>
<br/>
“Err… no? Take your time – you can stay as long as you want.”</p><p><em>You can stay all day.</em><br/>
<br/>
“And do you think, after I’ve finished running some errands, I could return here and we could have a proper conversation – over, say… lunch—”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes! Uh… yes. I don’t know when I’ll finish—”<br/>
<br/>
“Then perhaps if it’s not an inconvenience, you could message to let me know.”<br/>
<br/>
“Sure! I mean, sure. I’ll do that.”<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita stared at Akaashi, waiting for his turn to speak.<br/>
<br/>
Akaashi only stared back.<br/>
<br/>
“Would you like my number?”<br/>
<br/>
“Your number.” At the prompting, Ennoshita blinked himself out of his daze. “To message you. That’s actually a good idea.”<br/>
<br/>
He pulled up a new contact screen and handed over his phone. As Akaashi typed, Ennoshita wanted to add something to clarify that what he thought Akaashi was suggesting was what Akaashi was actually suggesting – but then he caught sight of movement at the door where a woman stopped to shake the rain off her umbrella, and he remembered that it was a Friday, and he still had work to do.<br/>
<br/>
Akaashi handed back the phone and picked up his order – with a knowing smile, he bowed his head.<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita watched him pour the milk and go over to the seat in the corner, catching the reflection on the window – Akaashi’s face, his smile wider than it had been, the shyness a surprise considering how forward he’d been—<br/>
<br/>
Akaashi looked up – their eyes met.<br/>
<br/>
Ennoshita laughed quietly as Akaashi bowed his head again, embarrassed and apologetic, and he returned his attention to the woman walking up to him—<br/>
<br/>
He caught a glimpse of the view outside; the buildings had been painted amber, the street glistened from the liquid gold.<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>karasu no su = crow's nest</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>